Right Now
by soaper410
Summary: Just a scene during the week where Deacon/Rayna reconnected (between the hosptial hug and the walk on the tarmac). My fanfic for the fan fiction challenge. Complete.


This is my answer to the fanfic challenge organized by KarenES. My prompt was: #7 Anything in the period between them talking at Lamar's bedside and getting off Juliette's plane saying "we had fun this week." Ep 1x17, My Heart Would Know

Not only did KarenES organize this (and wrote an awesome fanfic for her prompt) she also helped me out tremendously by being my beta on this. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Hope you enjoy. Comments are always appreciated.

**Right Now **

I'm starving but nothing on the room service menu seems appetizing. Actually, the food itself sounds good. The restaurant inside the hotel is a four-star establishment. I just can't bring myself to eat Chicken Marsala while watching the Golden Girls in this six-room suite.

I grab my key card and my pocketbook and hope the deli I noticed down the street is open until midnight.

I pull my jacket tighter around my chest as I walk out of the hotel. The weather in Ohio is odd this time of year. Forty-five minutes ago, the air was warm and thick, now it's much cooler.

For a second, I consider turning around but I'm still hungry and the penthouse is still empty.

I take a few steps onto the sidewalk before I hear the first syllable of my name. A second later I feel the heat of his hand on the small of my back. I turn to face him and smile shyly. Deacon asks where I am going to in the middle of the night. It's half past eleven and I try to calculate when got to the age where eleven thirty was the middle of the night.

I admit I'm hungry. He grins while he puts his hands in his front pockets. His question is simple.

"Mind if I join ya?"

I smile back and shake my head a little harder than necessary. The two of us walk beside each other until we reach the deli. It's closed.

Deacon suggests we head a few blocks north. Somewhere in the next block I find that our bodies are closer than they were during the previous block. My arm occasionally brushes his as we wait for the light to change in order to cross the street. Three more blocks of relative silence and then he stops at a group of concrete stairs.

The front of the restaurant has chalked signs advertizing cheap wings and hamburgers. The neon sign glows "OPEN" and even from outside we can hear loud voices yelling in jubilation. He takes my hand to help me up the steps. I notice several tables are full of men; their attention is on the televisions above the bar.

We make our way towards the regular seating area and it's quieter here. Most of the tables in this section are empty. Deacon asks for the booth in the back. A cute college aged kid shrugs before leading us towards a row of empty booths. I take the seat opposite Deacon. We grab the menus that were already on the table. I notice Deacon's cologne for the first time. It's different than the kind he's worn for years. It smells more expensive. I can't help but wonder if Stacey bought it for him or if he bought it for her. Either way, I don't much care for it.

Another loud roar comes from the bar and Deacon guesses, "Somebody did something good."

When the waitress makes her way to our table, she recognizes us. I smile politely and say thank you when she calls me her favorite singer. Deacon mumbles under his breath, "Mine too." It's something he would have said when we were together. It's something he would have said before the Country Club debacle. It is flattering and familiar and I blush for no real reason.

I order a Coke. Deacon makes a comment about living on the wild side. I haven't ordered a non-diet soft drink in years.

He asks how "Ole Lamar is doing?"

I cock my eyebrow, "I don't think you've ever asked how Daddy was before."

He smiles back at me, "I've asked before. I just never cared what the answer was."

I laugh into my straw and fill in Deacon on Daddy's progress. He's out of ICU and in a private room. The doctors are hopeful he'll be discharged by the weekend.

The drinks arrive and we order our food. I thank Deacon again for coming to see me at the hospital. I begin to unwrap the paper napkin holding my utensils. The food isn't here yet but I feel the need to do something with my hands. Deacon's eyes light up when I order the appetizer sampler. Nachos, cheese sticks, and wings. He orders a bacon cheeseburger with fries.

The two of us fall into an easy conversation about Scarlett. We talk about recording schedules and ideas for who should produce Scarlett's first album. He suggests Hank Goodson. I tell him I'm thinking about Carla. We discuss the pros and cons of both. I end up thinking Hank's the one to go with; he ends up thinking Carla is better suited to the task.

The conversation ebbs and flows and soon we are talking about my new material. He hasn't heard any of my new music. My tongue feels heavier in my mouth as I ask him to listen to the tracks. I quickly add that he doesn't have to listen to them, only if he wants to, and only if he has the time.

He smiles for some reason and then admits he wants to listen to them. Deacon moves in the booth and his knee brushes my leg. He doesn't move his leg and I'm not inclinded to move mine either.

I ask if he's still writing with Juliette and his face grows pensive. He admits he hasn't written anything lately. I tilt my head and tell him that I find that hard to believe. He just shrugs, admitting that leading Juliette's band is more challenging than he'd anticipated.

He tells me about the asshole Juliette is dating now. He tells me that this Dante guy is Juliette's mother's sober companion. It catches me off guard when Deacon talks about Jolene's sobriety. He rarely talks about addiction or sobriety with me.

For so many years, it was the third person in our relationship. It occurs to me how odd it is that we don't talk about his sobriety. It used to be all we talked about. It used to be what I prayed for, begged for, dreamed for.

I tell him that Jolene and Juliette are lucky to have him. He huffs out a breath of disbelief. He wants to change the subject away from him. He picks the topic of my girls. I roll my eyes as I tell Deacon how awful Maddie's last soccer game was.

"Painful. I swear she's absolutely awful; although the rest of the team is terrible too."

He laughs while stealing one of my nachos. He suggests Maddie play soccer in heels. "After all, you always did strut better in four inch heels than ya did walking barefoot." That part was true.

Then somehow we are talking about the last riff of 'Wrong Song.' He wants to make a change and I like the idea. I tell him I'll need to hear it first to make sure it will work. He nods and offers to come to my sound check the next afternoon.

I grab a fry off his plate and finish my second Coke. He eats almost all of my wings. I realize our legs are still touching each other. Another loud roar comes from the bar area and we both turn our heads.

The waitress comes back and sees most of our food is eaten. She asks if we want anything else. Deacon orders the brownie with the ice cream on it. I roll my eyes and put my hand over my stomach. I swear I can't eat another bite.

Ten minutes later, I end up licking my spoon clean of chocolate syrup. He asks me what really happened between me and Countless Records. I tell him the long version. I ask him what really happened with the Revel Kings. He tells me the short version. He talks about Scarlett and the back room. He grumbles about the hair spray and the eyeliner and the headaches. He admits he's happier now, "…Even if it means I have to sing 'Boys and Buses'."

I scoop another bite of ice cream out and admit I was glad he kicked Cy's ass. I add, "He deserved it."

His response was, "You should have kicked Liam's ass for what he did to you."

Eventually, the waitress starts to glare at us. The group at the bar lets out a large shout and they begin sharing high fives and pats on the back. Soon after, they file out of the front door. Apparently the game is over. Then another waitress and the bartender start to look at us, too.

Deacon, being the gentleman, pays for both of us. My watch reads 1:56. I should be tired but I'm not. But Deacon heads in the direction of the hotel and I suppose it's for the best. But we walk close together. I ask Deacon if he would consider riding on my bus tomorrow. It will take about three hours to get to Pittsburgh and I want his opinion on the group of demos Buck has compiled. I need to find about ten potential acts to audition. I have over fifty demos to sort through.

His accent is more pronounced when he replies. He tells me he's flattered and would love to help me. Then a second later he admits he would take any excuse to get off that bus.

"Trouble in sparkly pants paradise?" I tease. He bumps his shoulder against mine and I laugh. It feels normal. More than that, it feels good.

He says he'll stowaway on my bus tomorrow. And without realizing it, we are outside the hotel. Both of us slow our stride as we enter the lobby.

I thank Deacon for the company and for dinner. He offers his polite "any time" comeback. I tell Deacon goodnight and make my way to the row of elevators. He stays behind. I don't ask why he isn't riding up in the same car as me.

Three days from now, we'll part again on the tarmac in Nashville.

Between now and then, he'll help me narrow down the acts I want to give live auditions for. I'll share with him what Maddie overheard during that phone call between Teddy and Peggy. He'll tell me what really happened with the pills that were found in Cole's car. We'll laugh hysterically when I put Tandy on speakerphone to recount Daddy being hit on by one of the much younger nurses.

Even when I see Stacey jump into his arms, I won't feel jealous or heartbroken. I'll just be grateful I have my best friend back. And for right now, that's enough.


End file.
